staring down the sun

[25] take me to sunrise from indigo

The pain pushes his eyes to open halfway, and he feels a hand on his shoulder gently pushing him down. "Just relax, Connor," his brother instructs softly.

He feels like hell. He's been shot before, but this feels worse. Something happened, and he wasn't able to walk away like usual. He rubs at his right side, feeling the bandage and wound dressings wrapped around his abdomen as he attempts to inhale deeply.

They must be back at the church—their church—because the bed feels familiar. Murphy rubs Connor's shoulder slowly and gives him a small smile. "Ye know ye really scared us there, my dear brother."

Connor closes his eyes as he exhales, unsure if the twinge in his gut is from pain or guilt. "Aye, scared myself as well," he admits.

"Do ye remember anything?"

Connor shifts slightly. "Got shot. That's about it. Sort of remember seeing ye and Elena..." The memory is hazy, but her face is clear even for just a moment, and the realization hits him hard. "Fuck. Elena, where is sh—" but the pain shoots again, and he moans out in agony.

He feels Murphy grab his hand, letting Connor squeeze it tightly as the throbbing wave crashes through him. "Sh-sh, it's ok, Conn. I got ye."

Connor concentrates on breathing slowly, hoping that will help ease both his body and his mind. His heart rate settles, and he's able to open his eyes again, looking at his twin still holding onto his hand like he's afraid to let go. Connor relaxes and lets his head sink back into the pillow.

"Elena's here, don't worry. She's asleep in the chair over there," Murphy says softly, nodding toward the other side of the room. Connor carefully rolls his head to see Elena curled up sideways against the back cushion of the armchair. Her bare feet had slid off the arm cushion to hang off the side, while her arms hug herself in her slumber. "Ever since we hauled yer ass back here, the lass refused to leave yer side."

Connor blinks hard, feeling the air growing heavy in his lungs. He knows she wasn't alone; his brother had also been there all night. Murphy won't say anything, though, just as Connor wouldn't if it was the other way around. They were still in school when Murphy had to have his tonsils removed and stay overnight in the hospital. Even as a teenager, Connor didn't understand why he didn't need surgery, too, because it was always him and Murphy, inseparable, the same. The least he could do was stay in that hospital room overnight and make sure that his twin would be okay.

Murphy nods toward Connor's bandages. "Duffy had an ER doctor friend of his fix ye up. Said to watch for any signs of infection and to call him if..." He chokes up a bit, but clasps his other hand over Connor's that he's still holding. "I'm just glad yer alright, considering." He then looks back to Elena and smiles knowingly. "And whatever she's feeling, she's feeling it hard."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Connor pats his free palm over their hands. He smiles, too, feeling the dulled pain as he inhales to speak. "Ye should get some sleep, Murph. I'm not going anywhere."

The boys let go of each other's grasp, and Murphy instantly throws his hand up to his teeth, chewing on the side of his thumb like he does every time his nerves get the better of him. He's visibly unsure, unconvinced that he can leave his brother.

And then his stomach growls, forcing a subdued albeit much-needed laugh out of Connor as he teases, "Or yer fat ass needs some food."

Murphy grins and shakes his head. "Ye need anything? Ye hungry yet?"

Connor waves his hand, signaling no, with another chuckle. "Gotta watch my girlish figure here," he jokes.

His brother stands up, still unsure he can leave, and looks at Elena. "She's gonna be pissed I didn't tell her ye woke up."